The engines in present use are made of wood, and, though simple, are efficient in damping the roofs of houses (which, being tiled with thin squares of wood, are very inflammable), putting out embers, and playing upon the firemen, who, as already indicated, prefer being stewed to being roasted. The Japanese, however, are thoroughly aware of the superiority of our engines, which will probably soon take the place of their own, as the people are singularly quick in availing themselves of anything useful.
The townspeople generally calculate on being burnt out once in every seven years, and whenever this calamity falls upon them, no time is lost in rebuilding. For instance, in December, 1864, a fragment of blazing wood, from a fire which destroyed the United Service Club at Yokohama, was blown across to the village of Omura before alluded to, which was half burnt down, greatly endangering the General Small-Pox Hospital and the huts of the Royal Marine Battalion in its rear. But early next morning, while the embers of the old houses were still smoking, new ones were in course of erection, and before night some of the industrious occupants were fairly roofed in afresh.[2]
[Footnote 2: As an illustration of the spirit which characterises British merchants in their intercourse with the Japanese, it may be mentioned that a liberal subscription was promptly got up for the re-establishment of these burnt-out villagers; but, although the Japanese Government seemed thoroughly to appreciate the kindly spirit in which it was offered, national pride came in the way of its acceptance, and the people were only induced to waive their objection on its being urgently pressed upon them that the fire which destroyed the Foreigners' Club was the cause of the calamity.]
It is impossible to mark the even and peaceable tenor of Japanese life, the politeness, industry, respect for superiors, and general air of cheerfulness and content, that pervades all classes, without admiration of the wise regulations which preserve such order amongst them as a people. Quarrels and blows are almost unknown in families; the husband is gentle, the wife exemplary and affectionate, and the children singularly obedient and reverent to their parents: yet 'Spare the rod and spoil the child' is a precept totally disregarded. The children are never beaten, nor do the parents allow themselves to lose their tempers in rebuking them, however great the provocation may be--one remarkable result of the complete self-abnegation inculcated by their social system.